He sounds well and genuinely surprised. This, in turn, surprises me—and, as I can see from her face, Agatha. If indeed this man is responsible not only for the murder of May Daniels and its cover-up but also for the attack on me in London, the surveillance of me at Ivy’s home, the stalking of us all the way to Boulogne, and the threatening note sent to my flat, why is he astonished at the sight of us? He should know precisely who we are and why we brought him here.
Margery rises from her place at his side and joins us in one of the five seats facing him on the sofa. Emma has arranged them just so, for maximum effect. But Louis is having none of it. He leaps fromthe sofa and rushes toward the door. Anticipating this attempt at escape, the Pinkerton agent is already there, blocking his exit.
Even though the situation is charged, I cannot help but wonder. How much must Emma be paying this Pinkerton man for his work and his discretion? It is marvelous to have wealthy friends.
It’s my turn to take the floor. “Youwillstay in this suite and answer to us. Or we will make sure your wife, your family, and everyone you know sees those pictures.”
“Who the hell are you women? Really?”
“Who we are doesn’t matter in the least,” I answer. “What matters is what we want from you.”
“What’s that?” His voice is loud, but I hear fear in his tone.
“We want you to pay for killing May Daniels.”
Chapter Fifty
APRIL 16, 1931
LONDON,ENGLAND
Louis grows pale at the mention of May. At the mention of her murder.
Ngaio taunts him. “No smart retort?”
“I had nothing to do with her death. Absolutely nothing,” he insists. The color has returned to his face in the form of angry, flamed cheeks.
“That’s not what May had to say about it,” I counter, stepping toward him.
“How dare you! You,” he seethes, pointing his finger at me. “You came to my office—my place of work—”
“And then you had me followed and attacked.” I take another step in his direction. Never have I been so determined to exact vengeance. Not even when Bill White abandoned me after I informed him of my pregnancy have I felt such fury.
Backing away from me, Louis retreats until he hits a wall. “What in the name of God are you talking about? I never followed you or attacked you—or instructed anyone to do so. I don’t even remember your name.”
I glance at Agatha, and a subtle nod tells me we need to shift directions. We will come back to his retribution and threats.First things first,I think.
“Do you deny that you had an affair with May Daniels?” I ask, so close to him I can smell his breath, sour with wine and spirits.
His face turns a shade of red so dark it is nearly purple. Ngaio rises and stands by my side. “Not going to deny that, are you?”
He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t need to; this man’s expression telegraphs all.
Ngaio continues her harangue. “I’m guessing you won’t deny that you misled May into thinking you cared about her.”
Louis whispers something so quietly I don’t catch it. “What did you say?”
“I did care about her,” he says, his volume increasing only marginally.
Ngaio launches back in. “Funny way of showing it,” she says. “Killing her, I mean.”
“I did not kill May Daniels!” he yells.
“Let’s start with your smaller crimes, then, shall we? Adultery and fraud. You lied to May about your marital status, didn’t you? You told her you weren’t married. Lured her in—perpetuating a fraud upon her—with your codswallop,” I say.
No response. Doubts are beginning to simmer, however, about the bigger allegations, the ones that have prompted outbursts.
“And then, when she told you she was pregnant, you ordered her to get an abortion.” I glance over at my peers. “Am I correct in thinking that abortion is illegal in our country?”
